Feels Like Home To Me
by WileyDairyGnome
Summary: Post-finale. This fic captures what I think happens to all the main characters of the show after the finale. Will Dawson's dreams really come true? Are Joey and Pacey really meant to be? Will Jack and Doug's romance last? What will become of Jen's daughter, Amy? All of this and more will be answered within this ongoing fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This fic revolves around all the main characters of the show. Therefore, each chapter will usually involve a different set of characters each time. I hope you enjoy, and reviews are always welcomed!

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"Joey, I don't think it's really important to decide on what outfit I'm going to wear," Dawson said through the phone receiver, his palm soaking it with excitement.

"Of course it's important! Dawson, you're going to be meeting Spielberg! The idol of your adolescence, the king of your life's inspiration, the man-crush of yours in which you continue to be in denial of," Joey stated matter-of-factually on the other end, holding the phone out for both her and Pacey to hear.

"She's right you know," Pacey added. "Be sure not to get too excited with him if you know what I mean." Joey laughed.

"Thanks for the advice," Dawson said sarcastically. "But I'm sure I'll be fine. I've been able to meet some pretty famous people in the last five years without making a fool of myself."

"May I remind you of the Richard Attenborough incident?" Joey asked. "When you saw him, the director of _Gandhi_, in a Starbucks two years ago, you started a very heated argument with him about stealing the Oscar from _E.T_."

"She still has the tabloid article hung over her E.T doll in the bedroom," Pacey added.

"I can't believe you got yourself kicked out of that Starbucks, way to go on keeping it cool," Joey teased.

Dawson smiled and rolled his eyes, "He had it coming."

Joey started again, "And what about the time -"

"- Well, it must be getting pretty late for you two, I'll just let you guys go off to bed now," Dawson muttered quickly.

"Yeah but, how about when -"

"Goodnight!" Dawson called out before he hung up.

Joey and Pacey looked at each other and laughed as Joey hung up and put the phone down on the coffee table.

"I can't believe it, I'm so happy for him," Joey said.

"I know, the man's dreams are really coming true, aren't they?" Pacey replied.

Joey suddenly picked up the phone, "I have to call and tell -" she stopped. The smile escaped her face and she looked up at Pacey, "I keep forgetting."

Pacey walked over and hugged Joey as he pulled the phone out of her hand, "I'm sure she already knows and I'm sure she's just as proud," he whispered in her ear. Joey nodded her head in his shoulder. "We could call and tell Jack and Doug?"

"No, I wouldn't want the phone to wake up Amy," Joey said. "We can call and tell them all about it tomorrow, come on." Joey took Pacey's hand and they quietly shut off all the lights of their New York City apartment on the way to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're better at this baby stuff than I thought you would be," Jack said as he poured coffee into two mugs.

Doug sat Amy in her highchair next to the kitchen table, her young face glowing in her yellow spring dress. Doug kissed her soft head before he placed her dish of breakfast in front of her.

"Maybe I just have a good teacher." Doug winked at Jack as he fed spoonfuls to Amy.

"Or maybe you just have a natural talent at it," Jack said as he placed Doug's coffee on the table next to him.

"As do you," Doug replied with his chin up, accepting a kiss from Jack. Amy looked at them in admiration.

"Ready to switch?" Jack asked.

"Yep." Doug sat up and went to the coat hanger as Jack continued to feed Amy. "Oh, by the way, while you were in the shower, Pacey and Joey called with some exciting news," Doug said as he put his police chief jacket on.

"What is it?" Jack replied.

"Dawson Leery is going to be meeting Mr. Spielberg himself."

"What, no way!" Jack chuckled. "That's awesome! Man, I'll have to wake Grams up and give Jen a ca-" he stopped. He lost his gaze quickly and looked back to Amy, feeding her another spoonful.

Doug put his hand on Jack's shoulder and bent down to kiss his cheek. The scent of Doug's aftershave comforted Jack. For months, Jack had told Doug that he could share his aftershave, but Doug always refused. Jack liked it though. It made the scent more personal, and always warmed his thoughts when he smelled it every morning. The scent of his fresh and clean self, the scent of a new day, the scent of nostalgia of when he and Doug first got together all those months ago. Doug knew it comforted him, when he'd put his clean-shaven face close to Jack's, kissing him, spreading that musky, smooth aroma to his senses. It made all his troubles surrounding him fade away.

"See you later," Jack said to him.

"You too." Doug kissed Amy's head once more and left for work.

After breakfast, Jack got Amy cleaned up. She had always been quite fussy, not a morning person, just like her mom. The rest of the morning, Grams spent time with Amy while Jack graded some papers. Grams stuck to the house mostly those days, but she had always been willing to be with little Amy. Most of her days were spent with Amy in the garden, or in bed taking naps.

Around noon, Jack packed three lunches into a basket and got Amy set up in her stroller. Every Saturday, the two of them met Doug for lunch and they would go to the ocean. There weren't questions yet, since talking wasn't a big skill for Amy, but one day there would be questions. The day Jack dreaded to come, when he'd have to explain why they went to the ocean every weekend, and the day he'd have to show Amy the video her mother Jen left her.


	3. Chapter 3

Pacey had just finished packing his bag when Joey walked into the bedroom with his thermos of coffee.

"Thanks," he said as he took the thermos. His mind raced with paranoia that he might be forgetting something.

"I wish you didn't have to go," Joey sat on the bed next to Pacey's bag. "Can't you take one more week off?

"I wish, Joe. I tried everything I could but they need me at the restaurant."

He grabbed his watch off the nightstand and put it on his wrist. He tapped the face of it, noticing how the minute hand wouldn't move, and when it did, it would constantly move counter-clockwise.

"Damn thing," he said, tapping the face again.

"Call me as soon as you get there, okay?" Joey asked.

"Okay," Pacey said. He hooked his arms around Joey and gave her a kiss before climbing into his rental car.

"I'm not gonna spend all my time in New York trying to catch cabs," he said to Joey the day he rented the car. Joey insisted on taking cabs in New York and only rented cars when she was going out of town, which wasn't often for her book editor job consisted more of at-home work and a few visits at the office.

Pacey drove along the fast, busy streets of the city. The sounds of tires running, engines roaring, and horns ringing filling his ears, hummed with the rush of voices from the busy sidewalk. How anyone could spend their entire life living in a place like this, he did not know. He preferred the familiarity of a small town like Capeside, the comfort of knowing what will be around the corner, the state of calmness when he's sitting on his boat, listening to the water lapping and the sail moving through the wind.

Bitterness. Bitter like the chalk of a pill stuck to your tongue before you wash it down. His tongue cringed against the roof of his mouth. He closed the thermos of coffee Joey made him and put it back in the cup holder.

He chewed on a mint and thought more of the sea. He's on True Love. He and Joey are rocking in hammocks, taking turns reading a book. He could feel the rocking and the waves overhead. Then, True Love crashed. No, his car crashed. He had parked in front of a coffee shop and a car banged into his rear.

Pacey cursed under his breath as he climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind him. The sun was bright, but a cool breeze filled the air as he rushed to see the damage of his rental car. The rear bumper was dented and the license plate had bent. He heard the other car's passenger get out of the vehicle behind him.

"Listen man," Pacey started. "I'm gonna be late for a flight, I don't have time for this."

"I feel like we've done this before," the voice said calmly. It wasn't a voice Pacey was expecting.

He turned around to see a glowing face smiling at him. Her blonde hair radiated in the sunlight, her smile brighter than the sun itself. Her hands were placed upon her hips, and her dress danced in the breeze.

"Andie." Pacey smiled. "I should have known."

"Hello there, Officer Pacey." Andie gleamed back at him.


	4. Chapter 4

The apartment felt so quiet with Pacey gone. It wasn't just silent, it wasn't just empty, it was like it was a completely different place, like a fellow named Pacey had never even been there. The bedroom seemed untouched except for the indent in the blankets where the suitcase had been. No loose change on the nightstand, no tissues in the bin. There weren't even any photos on the walls with Pacey in them. Joey made a mental note to take pictures next time she was with him.

Joey walked into the living room. The silent hum gave her a headache. She could hear the faint sound of traffic outside, so she opened the large windowpane. The hum broke out once the sound of the streets poured through. She turned to her desk that sat in front of the window and grabbed a manuscript that was piled over top of others. With the manuscript under her arm, she lifted the fuzzy brown blanket off the side of her couch and wrapped herself in it as she sat on the couch, her knees raised to support the thick, recently printed manuscript. The small font made her eyes squint as she reached for her reading glasses on the coffee table next to her. She never used to wear glasses, but ever since she became a junior editor, spending hours upon hours reading manuscripts with small fonts, she eventually gained the disability of imperfect eyesight – something she was completely proud of, for it showed the hard work she had managed to accomplish.

She was a few chapters in when there was a knock at the front door across the room. She slipped her pen in the crease of the manuscript so she wouldn't lose her page as she closed it down onto the coffee table and headed for the door. The visitor continued to knock as she unlocked the door.

"I'm coming!" Joey said in annoyance. As she opened the door, she was surprised by who it was.

"I need help," Dawson said. He seemed out of breath and his face had a look of desperation.

"Dawson, what are you -" Joey was lost for words as she opened the door wider to let him in. He carried a suitcase in with him. "What are you doing here? You're gonna miss your meeting with -"

"That's why I'm here, Joey. I'm freaking out, I need your help," Dawson said in a rushed tone.

"I don't get it?" Joey closed the door and watched as Dawson placed his suitcase on the couch and opened it.

"You were right, I have no idea what to wear." He held up two collar shirts, one blue, and one white. "Which one?"

Joey looked at the shirts and then at Dawson in complete confusion.

"Let me get this straight. You took a plane all the way from L.A to ask me which shirt to wear to your meeting with Spielberg?"

"Yeah."

"Are you insane?"

"What?"

"You're supposed to be meeting him in what, a few short hours? How are you going to make it back in time?" Joey panicked.

"Joey, I'm meeting him here in New York."

"Oh." Joey's face blushed. "Well you could have told me that before." She took off her glasses and placed them down on the coffee table. "I'd say the blue one. I've always thought you looked good in blue, and the white might look too formal for a lunch date."

"It's not a date." Dawson threw the white collar shirt back into the suitcase and headed for the washroom with the blue one.

Joey smiled and rolled her eyes. She walked over to the window and closed the windowpane.

"How does it look?" Dawson asked as he walked back in, buttoning the shirt.

"It looks great, you'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand." Joey winked.

"This is a big deal, Joey. Stephen Spielberg wants to meet me. He's obviously seen my show which means he's probably well aware that it's based off of my own adolescence, therefore understanding that my whole life's passion and dream is to be a movie director just like Spielberg himself, and he still wants to meet me," Dawson said with a smile of excitement.

"He accepts your insanity, I think it's meant to be." Joey crossed her arms, still smiling.

"Whatever, if you were going to meet, say Louisa May Alcott, you'd be just as thrilled."

Joey rolled her eyes and her smile raised to the side. As Dawson began to close up his suitcase, Joey moved closer.

"Dawson?"

"Yeah, Joey?"

"I completely understand if you don't want me to, I really do. But I just felt the need to ask you," Joey said, holding her hands in front of her.

"What is it?" Dawson turned away from his suitcase.  
"Well, I was sort of wondering if I could come with you to meet Spielberg?" Joey bit her lip in uncertainty.

"Really?" Dawson replied.

"Yeah well, I know he's _your_ favourite director, but he's also the director of my favourite movie, and much of my fond memories of childhood involve watching _E.T_ with you countless times, and well -"

"I would love for you to come," Dawson said, smiling.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"My obsession over Spielberg has sort of always been a thing that only you totally understood, and I'd love it if you were there with me. Plus, you can help me remind myself to stay sane."

Joey smiled. "Okay, I'll go get ready." She walked quickly to her bedroom but stopped in her traps. "Uh oh."

"What is it?" Dawson asked.

"What am _I_ going to wear?"


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of the ocean waves echoed in Jack's ears as he lay upon a beach towel, his arms wrapped behind his head as he absorbed the sun's warmth against his chest. His eyes stayed shut as he listened to the waves, hearing the odd seagull call out above him.

"It's nice, isn't it?" he said.

"Hmm, it's wonderful." Jen responded. She lay next to him, leaning against her arms as she gazed at the ocean water. "I just love the ocean."

"Yeah?" Jack replied.

"It's just so beautiful. Hypnotizing in a way, you know? It just makes me think of when we were younger, hanging out at the beach."

"Those were good times," Jack said. "For the most part."

Jen continued to stare out at the ocean. "Whenever I come here, I always find myself daydreaming about our lives back then. How innocent we were. How much we didn't know about ourselves yet."

Jack opened one of his eyes. It squinted tightly from the bright sunlight as he looked up at Jen. Her face was bright and beautiful, even though her eyes were hidden under the large black shades. Her golden-blonde hair was tied in a messy bun, her light skin glowing. Her face was still, though looked as if she had a lot on her mind as she looked beyond the distance. Jack could see a few lines of fading stretchmarks among the lower part of her stomach.

He looked back up to where her eyes hid under the black lens. "Is there something on your mind?"

Jen's lips smiled, "Not really. I just think Amy should come to the ocean more often, when she's a bit older anyway."

"Well, you should take her to the ocean more often." Jack replied.

Jen's smile went away, "Yeah, I guess."

"Why don't you two and Grams move back here? I have plenty of room at my place you know."

"We couldn't do that. Amy is only a few months old, and Grams has her doctor back at home."

"There are doctors here, plus you don't have an ocean in SoHo." Jack teased.

"I guess that just gives us another reason to come visit." Jen said. She laid down next to Jack, placing her head against his shoulder.

They both closed their eyes. Jack then remembered a time when they would lay in the same position, watching the stars in the night sky during a particularly hot Indian Summer. It was a few months after he moved in with Jen and Grams, a time that held some of his happiest memories he often looked back on. He could feel Jen's hand lay against his chest. No matter what, she always brought him comfort. She was a piece of him that he never knew he needed until they finally met all those years ago. Now, that piece lived in New York, where it was before they had first met. Jen would try to come visit every few weeks, for Jack's teaching job restricted his ability to travel a lot. But Jen didn't mind, because she needed that piece too.

Jack opened his eyes. That piece was gone. It's been gone for about a month now, and he didn't feel complete without it. He looked over to see Amy sitting on the towel next to him, wearing a large hat to protect herself from the sun's rays. She ran her little hands through the warm sand, holding it up and watching it fall through the cracks of her fingers.

They were waiting for Doug to show up for their usual Saturday picnic. Jack looked out at the ocean, thinking about that day he had with Jen in that same spot a year ago. How could he not have known? Better yet, how could Jen not have told him about her illness? He wondered this constantly. He knew she didn't want him to worry, but it made him feel like a fool. _"You should take her to the ocean more often"._ How stupid. Of course he knew now why Jen seemed hesitant about it. Because she knew. She knew what was to become of herself and she was dreading it.

That's why he was there; why he had weekly picnics at the ocean. Because that's what Jen wanted for Amy. She was trying to tell Jack that on that day at the beach, and Jack didn't even know at the time. But he knew now. He wished he knew sooner.

Jack heard a ringing coming from his beach bag. He reached inside and pulled out his cell phone.

"Hey Jack, it's me." Doug said on the other end.

"Oh hey, you still coming?" Jack replied.

"I'm really sorry, but I can't make it."

"Really? Why not?" Jack said in disappointment, looking down at Amy's obliviousness in the sand.

"Something just came up, so I won't be seeing you till after my shift tonight." Doug responded.

"Alright, I guess I'll see you then."

"Give Amy a kiss for me."

Before Jack could say goodbye, Doug had hung up.


End file.
